Victorian Legends: The Forest of Wisdom
by Homo sum
Summary: The land of Victoria is filled with legends. This is the tale of how and why they came to be. This is the story of men who will one day walk in the poems of the warriors, the dark dreams of the thieves and the wistful songs of the magicians.
1. Chapter 1

_P.S. After three years of inactivity, I've decided to return to my original story. After numerous failed attempts at editing it, I finally chose to rewrite my entire tale, hopefully this time without the glaring mistakes I noticed in version 1.0._

_Since both Thenesis and Runglar seemed generic and somewhat shallow, I also focused more on characterization in this short little prologue._

_I plan to make this a 120k novel, with new chapters being added every 7-10 days._

_That being said, please feel free to point out any mistakes that lessens your reading experience._

_Thanks. :D_

* * *

_The fiery sky,_

_Intoned with life_

_The dead are settled_

_The dawn uplifting_

_Verse one of the Chapter of Life from the Hymn of the Steppes_

* * *

It was inconceivable that the magicians were losing; yet losing they were, as they were slowly pushed back, step by painful step. It was galling to the extreme that their only defeat in centuries was at the Forest of Wisdom, on a field rich with Ellinian magic. The warriors of Perion had made good use of the naturally forming teleporting platforms as their base for attack. Never had it occurred to the magicians that their most menial form of transport would be their downfall.

The Shamans, warrior priests of Perion, had somehow circumvented the barriers that should have existed between the two diverse forms of magic, forcing them together with devastating results.

"Come on, men!" Borius shouted, desperate to revive the ailing morale of his troops.

The gravelly voice of the Commander rang through the broken spirits of his soldiers, bolstering them with courage. The magicians had prepped their vast armies of magic at the borders of Perion in preparation for the assault. However, in doing so, they left their motherland virtually undefended, something the warriors had anticipated. An elite force had been organised and quickly slipped through the unguarded portals.

The raiders wrecked havoc on the surrounding villages, killing indiscriminately. As no survivors were left, it took a full week before the news of the invasion reached the stagnant forces at the borders. Panicking at the proximity of their enemies, the bulk of their army had immediately teleported back to the last defensible outpost at the edge of the Forest of Wisdom – right into an ambush. The magicians had only one place left to go, and so they were easily anticipated.

Thousands of Ellinians fell within the first few minutes, the magical enhanced roars of the warriors piercing eardrums and shattering delicate blood vessels. Twelve regiments, twelve thousand magicians were lost in that instant. The remnants of the once mighty imperial army now crouched behind rocks, trees and crude fortifications, waiting for reinforcements that would never come. The soldiers had long accepted their fate, and each was preparing a welcome for death in his own special way.

Borius could only sigh at the hopelessness of the situation. Just barely moments ago, he had received a coded message from Gandalf. In response to his increasing impatient pleas for aid from their allied towns, the ruler of Ellinia had merely replied with a short message.

_Fight to the death. Hold for as long as possible. Give no ground._

Such was the ways of kings and rulers, he mused. Twenty-five years he had given to Gandalf and the kingdom. And his reward for his long years of loyal service was to die in a hopeless battle while Gandalf sat on his gilded throne. The fact irked him. But orders were orders, and Borius planned to fulfil his pledge of allegiance.

Turning towards his lieutenant, a man he had fought side by side with for more than a decade he said, "I believe we might have run into a bit of a problem."

Demalto grinned at his superior's satire. "So we solve it like we always do, hey?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Borius smiled, "you mean walking up and demanding the shit-eating pigs to return to their mountain holes?"

Demalto shrugged, "I don't think the shit-eating pigs understand any civilised languages."

"So how do you expect to tell them?"

"I believe 'shit-eating pigs' is universal."

Borius stared for a moment before roaring with genuine humour. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what?"

Borius rolled his eyes, gesturing at the widespread destruction around them.

"Ah Borius, is age catching up to you?"

Shaking his head in mock horror, Demalto cracked his neck, the banter elevating the tension he always felt before a battle. Don't you worry old man, you just stay here. I'll kill every bastard out there, diaper you and send you back to your mother. You sit and cheer me on."

Borius grunted out an obscene reply that made both men chuckle.

Their grins fell as they saw the enemy closing on them.

Borius said, "are the men done falling the trees? We have to barricade the passage to Ellinia."

Demalto nodded the affirmative.

Gathering his energy, Borius blasted the logs with fire, hardening them with flame as the soldiers stacked them one over another, blocking the only entrance to Ellinia still left open.

With the logs successfully baked, Borius gestured curtly to Demalto. His lieutenant waved his staff, tracing runes on the hardened trunks. Borius felt rather than saw the hum of magic as the moisture in the air froze, packing the logs even closer together.

"How long will this hold?" He asked.

"Long enough," was the brusque reply.

They were just in time. The screeching sound of trumpets announced the arrival of the main host. The ice wall behind them grew as Demalto poured more and more energy into the construction, desperate for it to hold.

"Fire mages in front. Ice mages, form shields. Clerics, began your chants. Ranks of five."

Any former camaraderie vanished from the atmosphere at the arrival of the troops. The magician soldiers were well trained to the man, and they responded to their Commander's orders with the efficiency of long practice.

"Arrows up!"

A hundred fiery constructs blazed in the air as the first ranks took their positions. Across them, the warriors began a slow jog that built into a sprint as they gathered momentum.

"Fire!"

A glowing wall of death swept out from the archers, smashing into the ranks of the warriors, causing widespread damage. However, the tough mountain men weathered the strikes, leaping across their fallen comrades, eager for the blood bath just ahead.

"Ice mages, shields!"

Frost gathered as the magicians concentrated their energy in front of them, creating an impenetrable wall – or so they thought.

The more experienced of the warriors halted when they sensed the chill in the air. As one, they grabbed their spears. A devastating avalanche of sound resounded from them as they roared, shaking the earth with its intensity. The weaker magicians clutched at their tattered eardrums. The wall shattered as their concentration wavered in the face of the warriors' awesome power.

Five paces. Four. Two. One.

And the warriors were among the confused Ellinians, killing with impunity as the magicians struggled to regain their senses. Borius jumped into the fray, blasting warriors to the ground with well-aimed arrows of flame. He was far too strong for the arte of the dragon's roar to affect him and warriors fell like wheat before him.

Spitting blood onto the ground, the Commander drew a strangely shaped rock from his pockets and threw it. Grasping his staff, he slammed it on the rock, sundering it. Mystic energy swept across the battlefield before condensing onto the bloodied spot. A rift began to form, providing Borius with temporary relief as the warriors backed away, unsure about this new magic.

Taking advantage of the godsend, Borius screamed, desperate to finish his incantation. "Elquines! Attend to me! I bind you here with the chains of my command. Never will you taste freedom until Ellinia once again is free!"

The answering roar was one of rage and helpless anger as the pull of blood and sorcerous power dragged the icy demon from its infernal home.

The spell completed, Borius whipped his spare dagger out. With a resigned sigh, he threw his staff on the ground. Lifting his head, he glanced at the sky, swelling his lungs with a breath of the sweet forest air.

"Demalto!" He roared above the thunder of the battle. "Die well!"

Saying so, he plunged the dagger into his breast, completing the ritual allowing him to bind the Elquines – normally only summoned for short periods of time, to an eternity of servitude to the Forest of Wisdom. The demon of ice slowly materialised. Bound by the manacles of Borius's will, it could only attack the warriors of Perion and it did so with the violence so common to its kind. Ignoring the nicks that the hapless warriors placed on it, its giant fists swung, caving in skulls, claiming lives.

Borius smiled as he fell to his knees, strength ebbing from his chest. His last thoughts were of his childhood, where he played in the streams of Ellinia with Demalto.

Demalto saw his Commander fall and screamed his rage to the uncaring sky. Holding out his staff, he began his greatest spell, which ended when an axe hammered into his chest, splintering his ribs and drowning the remaining magicians in gore.

A monstrous figure towered over the diminishing magicians, sinews bulging from the excess of muscle. Dances with Balrog had entered with battle, and his presence was immense indeed. His powerful forearms crossed an impossible length of chest to fold across an impressive upper body. With great speed belying his size, he reached and snatched the axe from the mortally wounded Demalto and before any of the surrounding magicians could react, beheaded the nearest magician. The power of the slash was carried, and the magicians huddled behind could only stare in awe as their companions were hit with a blow that landed seconds ago.

Demalto struggled into a sitting position. He knew the ice wall he had constructed would not be enough to stop the rampaging warriors. Clenching his fist in helpless agony, he could only watch as his lifeblood streamed from the devastating wound. Pushing palms together, he whimpered as he tried to push the jagged edges of his wound together.

Remembering, though not quite understanding why his Commander had to give his life for the summoning of the Elquines, he grabbed his staff and laid it on his exposed chest. The last action of the lieutenant of Ellinia's army was to complete his spell.

An explosive blizzard raged from the prone body, devastating both friend and foe alike. Caught by surprise, Dances with Balrog screeched in fury as his prize was denied to him. Summoning his considerable power, he tried to push his way out of the fay wind. However, slowly, but surely, ice began to clump around him, freezing the great warrior. His subordinates were already frozen clumps of ice. The Elquines floated towards the warrior lord and with malicious glee grabbed him. It was the straw that broke the back of the donkey. The ice crusted around him, and he stood frozen within the unnatural blizzard, a victim of his own invasion.

The blizzard continued throbbing with the strange energies that powered it. Brave soldiers from both sides tried to enter the wailing storm, but none made it out alive. Strangely, the icy wind never strayed further than where Demalto had fell. In death, the leaders of the army managed to do what they could not in life – the way to Ellinia was blocked.

* * *

Throughout the rich, loamy earth of The Forest of Wisdom, the remaining magicians fought desperately. Spells could not be thrown without concentration, and with the ground shaking with the shamanic roars of the warriors throwing even the staunchest magicians off balance, the defenders were being scythed down ruthlessly in their hundreds.

Theneis leaned his back against the trunk of the tree, wearier then he had ever been in his life. The battle was lost, The Forest of Wisdom taken, and the magicians of Ellinia tasted, for the first time in centuries, the putrid stench of defeat. Theneis gazed upon the Forest of Wisdom; its green fields ravaged beyond recognition, and cursed once more, the futility of conquest.

The barbarians of Perion, angered that the magicians had broken their treaties, had formed an invasion of their own. The battle had fast turned into a rout as the magicians fell neatly into the warrior's trap.

Their will was shattered, their mages dead or wounded, the previously undefeatable army of Ellinia was gone. Only pockets of resistance remained as a testament to the cunning of the warriors.

Thenesis had seen the Elquines summoned by Borius and his face lit up with a bitter smile. His friend had finally grasped the concept he had tried so many years to explain to him. Unfortunately, it took his death for the lesson to be learnt. And even then the Commander did not fully grasp what Thenesis had tried to impart to him.

He reached down to wipe the sweat and grime off his bruised body. Thenesis was a mage apart. He suspected Grendel would have him captured, or at least questioned extensively for the magic he knew, and so he kept it hidden from the rest of his peers, choosing instead to restrict himself to the banal forms of magic taught at the Academy. Yet this was getting harder and harder.

His newfound knowledge caused a shift of perception in him. It opened new doors to hidden awareness yet closed others. He could no longer think like an archmage of Ellinia for the simple reason that he was no longer one. The nagging question of his identity returned to nag at him as it so often did in the dark depths of night. Irritated, he shelved his unruly thoughts with a simple breathing technique he taught himself.

However, he returned to it again and again, his mind worrying over the problem insistently. Annoyed, he clenched iron fingers over his weapon, looking around for more enemies.

Grime clung on his Eligos staff, slightly dampening the soft red glow that rose from it. It did not, however, decrease the proficiency and deadliness of the weapon in any way. The sudden prickling of the hair at the nape of his neck warned Thenesis of incoming danger. Instinct took over then, hard training wrenching control of his body. He teleported swiftly a few paces back, surveying his surroundings with dark eyes.

The ground was pitted where he was a few moments ago, still smoking slightly from the power of the blow. The warrior had imbued his weapon with shamanic magic, using the brute force of his heritage to slam his spear into the ground, causing a shock wave to ripple out, destroying anything in its path.

Three warriors faced him, arrogant in their numerical superiority. One of them called over, "impressive reflexes magician."

A tight smile flashed across Thenesis's face. He replied, "be careful boy, you might hurt yourself."

Flicking his staff disdainfully at the warriors, he summoned his magical energies, blood quickening at the thought of battle and the pain to come. Casually walking towards his enemies, he disregarded any defence, spreading his arms, leaving himself wide open to any attack.

The warriors' eyes narrowed at the intended insult. With roars of rage, two of them charged forward, spears already glowing with the magic of their homeland, ready to kill the offending magician standing in front of them. Blue auras surged around them, overlaying their forms with that of a dragon. Thenesis's eyes widened – he had not expected them to be so advanced in their training.

However, he was too late; twin spears entered his front to punch bloody holes through his back. He fell forward, blood dripping from tortured flesh. With a grunt of exertion, the warriors wrenched their spears out of the wounded magician, watching as he stumbled. Thenesis pushed himself upright. He could feel his lifeblood pooling away.

But he wanted to savour the moment.

"Come bonnies, my chest itches." He taunted, enjoying the dark flush of anger colouring the faces of the two warriors before him.

A glow of azure pink erupted around the one standing closest to Thenesis, a sure sign that the offensive power of voice often utilised by the tribes of Perion was about to be used. Thenesis's staff glowed with sudden power as dark fire coursed through its length. With incredible speed from one so wounded, he leapt forward, and before the warrior could gather himself, struck him solidly on his shoulder.

Immediately, the vampiric effects of his delayed spell took place. The warrior stood rooted in shock as his vitality surged out of him like an ocean swell. Rejuvenated by the flood of vitality, Thenesis swung around the remaining warrior, his staff a blurring weapon of death.

The warrior defended staunchly enough, but he was inexperienced and soon fell Thenesis's twirling staff. Facing the downed warriors, Thenesis sucked in their life energies, feeling his grievous wounds close up with unnatural speed.

Finally sated, he nonchalantly smashed the remains, collapsing them with a sweep of his Eligos.

The third warrior was watching him intently.

Striding forward unexpectedly, the warrior ignored Thenesis's belligerent glare. Surprising the magician, he offered his hand in the customary greeting of the Ellinians.

"Well met magician. I am Runglar."

The tension broke as Thenesis grinned and returned the handshake. "Well met indeed barbarian. I am Thenesis."

The warrior had a deep booming voice that timbre matched perfectly with his muscular structure – big boned and heavily muscled.

"You have killed my comrades. You understand that I must now kill you too?"

Thenesis's body tensed at the threat. However, seeing as Runglar remained perfectly relaxed, Thenesis forced a calm he did not feel.

Smiling, he said, "I am tired, shall we take a rest? I believe I have some food in my pack."

Massive shoulders shrugged. "Death makes a man hungry eh? I am ravenous!" A booming laugh echoed from the barrel chest. With a grunt, Runglar sat himself by the tree, pushing aside one of the dead. "Warriors about to kill each other should break bread, it is only proper."

Nodding his head in agreement, Thenesis inquired as he offered a hunk of bread from his stores which the warrior accepted gratefully, "you did not like them?"

Sorrowfully, the big man shook his head. "I loved them. We were brothers."

"You understand that I had to kill them."

"It is the war lad. It makes monsters of us all."

Thenesis sat across Runglar. He raised an eyebrow at the warrior's comment. "You were the ones who attacked us."

"Grendel broke our treaties. He closed the trade route to us when drought was rampant throughout our lands. What would you have us do?"

"That was not what we were told."

Runglar sighed then, rubbing the creases on his face. Then, without warning and with frightening power, he wrenched his brother's spear from the ground and lunged at Thenesis. The magician was stunned at the speed and power of the strike. Even though he had expected the fight to begin sooner or later, he had not gambled on the pure destructive force and speed that Runglar had.

He barely managed to teleport out of the way before the spear plunged into the ground, sinking all the way to half its hilt before stopping. With barely a grunt of effort, he saw that Runglar's face was contorted in rage, a mocking caricature of his previous calm. He felt the thrill of the battle in his veins once more. Unbidden, a laugh tore its way from his mouth. Cloaking his staff with dark fire, he spun to face his adversary.

"You killed my brother!" Runglar roared with all the power of Voice. The sound plummeted Thenesis, nearly driving him to his knees. Forcing himself up, he replied with a stunning display of skill. Spinning his staff, Thenesis dashed through the tumult to land blows of Runglar's exposed body. The warrior, after recovering from the first few hits, matched Thenesis spin for spin, smash for smash.

The toll of defending against the shamanic imbued blows soon took its toll on Thenesis. Jumping back, he drew nourishment from his surroundings and pulsed their power into him, bolstering him with fay power. His muscles swelled as the creatures and plants gave their lives for him. Their deaths saddened him, but he had no choice. A dark aura surrounded him, boosting his innate skills.

A ripple of dark fire streamed out from his clenched fist to strike Runglar, driving the baresark warrior back. Taking advantage of the push, Thenesis rushed forward to strike at the warrior only to have his weapon blocked by a spear.

A combination of three blows rang against the spear.

Three blows.

Four blows.

Five blows.

Runglar glowed with inner energies, and he seemed haler and heartier with each passing second. However, an increase of stamina did not equate to an increase in strength, and Thenesis slowly drove him back with his increasing momentum. They were so balanced it was hard to differentiate who was the better. Few opponents were as skilled and Thenesis was enjoying the thrill of adrenaline that boiled his blood and spirit. But he knew that such a competition could not last; with each stab and each twirl of their weapons, it brought death closer to soft skin and yearning flesh.

Finally, Thenesis broke through Runglar's guard with a blistering six blow combination.

Runglar staggered back, forehead bleeding from a gash. Dark fire streamed once again from Thenesis, and the warrior's weapon shattered in his hands. Runglar made to grab for another spear, but a staff gleaming with magic pressed against his throat dissuaded him.

Wild eyes met Thenesis and Runglar choked out angry words from between clenched teeth. "Kill me so I may join my brothers, Thenesis."

For a moment, the mage's eyes gleamed with barely supressed maniacal joy. Then the reality of his surroundings hit him, dampening his savagery with chains of reason. Despite his better judgement, he lowered his staff, surprising himself with the act of simple mercy. Normally his warrior spirit would scream against letting an enemy, especially one as powerful as Runglar to live and recover, but his love for his homeland overrode his baser instincts – enough death had been visited on the leafy boughs of Ellinia.

The very soil stank of blood and excrement that bled from the death of mighty hearts. The shadow of war would forevermore stain the once pure forests and something about the absolute wrongness of it all pulled at Thenesis, filling his mouth with bitter bile. He knew it would take years of cleansing to fill the forest with sweet air again and he had no inclination to add more loss to the woodland.

Lifting his staff from the prone Runglar, he quieted the urge to bash his skull in. "No. The war is over. The warriors have won. We will return to our lands and guard what little we have left."

Thenesis could read the blistering anger in Runglar's eyes as he regarded the act of mercy. Perionions looked upon weakness with contempt, and the inbred scorn was true in Runglar as he regarded his captor.

"My brothers are dead, and by your hands. If you do not kill me, I will kill you." The heavy threat hung in the air, adding even more tension to the situation.

Which was promptly broken by Thenesis's laugh.

It was a unbridled laugh made true with the absence of scorn. Looking down on the warrior, he said, "I have just overpowered you and you are currently in my mercy. Yet I am frightened of the threat you just made." The irony sank in again, and Thenesis sheathed his weapons, sitting with his back facing Runglar, knowing all the while that the warrior was inching slowly towards the broken, but still sharp shards of his ruined weapon.

"I have heard that the warriors of Perion will not attack an unarmed enemy facing away from them. Let us see if that is true."

Runglar froze in the act of plunging the sharp edge into Thenesis's back. He growled, "magician, do you want to die?"

"My life, it seems, is in your hands now. My wants are immaterial." Thenesis replied him, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

With a savage roar of fury, Runglar plunged the shard in the soft mud, knowing full well he could not kill Thenesis and knowing too with dread that he owed the magician his life.

Turning around, Thenesis said, "thank you."

With that, the power balanced was restored. In the act of granting the power of a jury to Runglar, the shackles of the debt that laced the warrior fell away, making him a free man once more.

A life for a life – the ironclad rule of Perion.

Runglar cradled his brothers close to him and finally allowed his tears to flow. The last of Thenesis's battle lust vanished as the scene before him punished him with whips of guilt.

"They attacked me, I had no choice." The weakness of the apology sounded even in his ears but he had nothing else to offer.

Runglar replied, "they died well."

Weaponless, Runglar plunged his hands into the ground and begin to dig. The warrior gestured to Thenesis, signalling him to help with the burial of his brothers. Shrugging his shoulders, the mage gathered his power and plunged in staff into the ground to send out chains of dark fire that dug out the soil.

With gentle care, Runglar placed the dead in and after covering them with earth, intoned softy.

"_warriors are we,_

_broken am I,_

_your wings are spread_

_yet here you lie"_

Thenesis waited until he completed the chant before he asked, "what do the words mean?"

Runglar regarded the mage with a curious graze. "It is a verse from the Chapter of Death of the Hymn of the Steppes." When Thenesis failed to understand, he continued, "it is the cant that we live by that contains the rules that dictate our society."

Understanding dawned and shock was evident on Thenesis's face. "I did not know you barbarians had such culture."

Runglar smiled thinly, "and it is amazing that you do not eat the dead or use them for one of your obscene rituals."

Sharing a grim smile, the two warriors considered the implications of the propaganda that plagued their two different societies.

The arrival of a troop of warriors broke them out of their contemplation. Upon seeing the lone magician, the leader at the front barked an order, and fifty swords were raised in preparation of the slaughter to come.

"Stop!" The voice of Runglar blasted out, authority stringent in his order. Immediately, all fifty swords fell before they registered where the command came from.

The leader pushed the wild boar he was riding on forward to meet warrior, arrogance in his every movement. He called to Runglar, "and who are you, warrior?"

Ignoring him, Runglar reached out and heedless to the bristling swords, grabbed the man by his armour, lifting him clear off his mount. Pushing his face close to the resisting man, he snared, "look again peasant, and tell me."

The man's eyes widened as he saw the insignia of the House of Dances with Balrog tattooed on the bare chest of Runglar. Stuttering incoherently as Runglar dropped him, he fell to his knees. Behind him, upon seeing their leader's display of obedience, the fifty warriors immediately bowed as well. Behind him, Thenesis was regarding the scene in front of his with mild amusement.

"Apparently you are some sort of lord in Perion, Runglar?"

"Apparently."

Turning to Thenesis, he said, "we part here. Do you surrender on the behalf of the magicians?"

Thenesis nodded uncertainly, unsure whether he had the authority to make such a claim. However, he replied, "yes."

"Then the war ends… for the moment. The surviving magicians will not be harmed."

Kicking the kneeling man, he ordered him up. "Ride as fast as you can and give the order. The killing stops. We will regroup at the edge of the blizzard. The men will stay with me"

The wildness in his eyes only slightly abated, the man leapt onto the boar with frantic urgency and urged it away.

Turning again towards Thenesis Runglar said," if we meet again, do not expect the same mercy you have shown me."

Thenesis replied, "I will show you none."

Satisfied, the warrior made his way to his soldiers, glad at least for the time being, the war had ended.

Just before he got too far, Thenesis called him, "I will not call you my enemy."

Runglar replied with turning, "you cannot call me your friend."

Thenesis sensed a kindred spirit in Runglar. In the short time they had spent together, camaraderie had formed even in the face of the death of Runglar's brothers.

Thenesis said with a certainty in farewell, "I think we will meet again."

The warrior strode away without answering, feeling the gloom of prophecy settle on him as he heard the words of Thenesis.

The magician watched as he gathered his troops and walked away. It had been a strange day, he decided as he got up and prepared his teleportation spell that would take him back to Ellinia. The last drifting thought before he vanished was that of the blizzard and the arrant Elquines and what the Council was going to do with them.

* * *

Sixteen thousand, eight hundred and fifty-three magicians died that day, crippling the military might of Ellinia. No longer would the town of magicians rise to the prominence they once knew. Their day was ended beneath the boughs of the Forest of Wisdom.

The historical battle would spread through word of mouth towards the neighbouring cities of Victoria. What the allied towns originally thought was a border skirmish had turned into a full scale invasion. Many were the time where the leaders mourned that they had ignored Ellinia's call for help.

Now the warriors controlled the highway that was the portals of the Forest of Wisdom. The hidden potential of the portals were still in the process of being discovered by the shamans of the warriors to the woe of Victoria.

Even though they had lost their leader in battle, the lusts of the Perionions were still strong. Even with the passivity of their current leader, Runglar, they were still an unstoppable force. Runglar, despite his promise to Thenesis, had to continue his march throughout Victoria or risk his fledging army tearing itself apart. The endless horde of Perion could not be halted.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi guys._

_All the legends I've written about so far are based on maplefact. :D. That is, if maplewiki can be trusted._

_I'm trying to keep to the main story as much as I possibly can._

_Duty to one's land is contemptible._

_Duty to one's friend is admirable._

_The Dark Lord's Creed_

* * *

In the summer dusk, the tents of the injured and dying stretched for miles in every direction, bringing along with them a sense of hopelessness. The Ellinians who were unable to fight trudged morosely along the lines, giving aid and optimism whenever they could. These came sparsely and far-between. The war of the Forest of Wisdom had drained the empire of anything even remotely close to hope.

Thenesis wandered through the mess of humanity, lungs reeking with the scent of decay and filth. The press of bodies filled the air with the sour tang of sweat. This, combined with the strong alcohol the Ellinians used for the cleansing of wounds and dulling of pain, filled the air with a gut-churning smell.

Thenesis made his way to the fresh hills, desperate for the touch of the clean soil of the forests. He was disgusted with the weakness and stupidity of his people. He believed with all his heart that the humiliating defeat at the Forest of Wisdom was due to the complacency that had set in after many years of both trade and military dominance.

A slender woman stepped into his path, effectively blocking his way. Her sardonic voice cut through the air. "Hello Thenesis."

Sweeping himself in a graceful bow, the magician greeted the woman, "Myrissa."

Myrissa raised her hand languidly and gently poked Thenesis on his chest, laughing delightedly as she felt his muscles instinctively stiffened; the result of being constantly on the edge.

"You should relax more, my friend."

Thenesis let out his weariness in a sigh. Gesturing towards the cluttered tents, he glared, "do you see that?" Letting the rhetorical question hang, he continued, "now do you see this?" He gestured on the ground he was standing on. "Do you have a reasonable explanation why half of that can't be moved here?"

Ignoring the amusement that fluttered across Myrissa's face, he sat on a protruding log, annoyed that his control had broken after the many fraying days of complains by petty officers and the harrowing issues of the waste five thousand sick men could produce.

Thenesis was a noble by blood. When still alive, both his parents were able administrators who managed Ellinia with a swift efficiency. Grendel had knighted them and the family enjoyed noble benefits when they were alive. Those benefits had been passed along to Thenesis, who unfortunately, had none of his parents' administrative ability. Still, bound by duty, he struggled to fulfil his tasks.

Seating herself across Thenesis, she leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying the familiar warmth he provided. "Well, you seem to have everything under control."

A smile flashed across Thenesis's face, alleviating some of the tension from his chest. His shoulders relaxed, and he pushed himself towards Myrissa, allowing her to lie on him comfortably.

"You don't say." He chuckled glumly

Myrissa said, "I heard Grendel accepted you as part of the Council now. Congratulations."

"It was not exactly a choice given to the Council. They had no one left."

"Well, that too."

The two friends fell into a comfortable silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts as they enjoyed the rest that was long overdue to both of them.

Myrissa broke the silence. Grabbing Thenesis's hand, she whispered, "and Borius? How are you dealing with that?"

The magician's face darkened as memories swooped down. "I heard his Elquines still lives."

"Yes. How that is possible I have no idea."

"Myrissa, did you remember what I said? Borius is proof of it."

Myrissa looked at him incredulously. "You cannot be serious."

Thenesis's unsmiling face quickly dispelled that idea.

"Thenesis… please. Don't do this again."

Thenesis ignored her plea. "It's obvious that restraints of some form have been placed on us. We are essentially magicians so why can't a person who learns the fire arte include ice in his arsenal?"

"Your conspiracy theories are just that, theories!" Pushing herself away from him, Myrissa stared at her childhood friend. She had heard his arguments before and she was tired of them. "Grendel will have you detained, even worse. Do not even think of repeating this."

Thenesis snorted, a tone filled with disdain. Swinging his staff, he willed dark fire coat its length. "Explain this then."

Myrissa ogled at the length of wood, a mixture of fascination and dread on her face. "I know what you mean, and what you are probably going to say. But do not ever practice magic in Ellinia."

"I know."

Suddenly Thenesis chuckled, the unexpected humour shocking Myrissa.

"What?"

"A Noble of Ellinia, unable to use magic for fear of being detained by a magician."

Myrissa gawked, before breaking out into a little smile.

"If you want to phrase it that way."

Thenesis grinned and patted her gently on her head.

"Don't forget that Grendel summoned you." Myrissa continued.

"When did he?"

"Three hours ago."

"Then I guess he can wait." Pushing Myrissa playfully off the log, he stood up, once more the pillar of strength that she relied on.

Thenesis said, "I'm going to have to talk to the sergeants."

A glint entered his eyes as he said this, promising pain to the incompetent men. Myrissa felt a delicious tremble course through her spine, and she shivered in excitement.

Bidding her farewell, Thenesis walked out. Myrissa glanced at the retreating figure of the magician. They had been friends since childhood, and the love they felt for one another were both mutual and platonic.

The thoughts that Thenesis implanted in her disturbed her to her very core. The four leaders were the rocks in which Victoria leaned on. What Thenesis suggested shattered the almost divine aura that the founding fathers were held in.

It was a machination, that if true, went against the very constitution that she thought differentiated them from the barbarians that had defeated them not so long ago. She wanted to reject the very idea of it, but Thenesis's newfound magic was evidence that was hard to ignore.

The ramifications would be enormous if this knowledge was made known. With the consequences of the war still reverberating throughout Ellinia, she wasn't sure how the citizens would react to such damning news.

Pushing such ominous thoughts away, Myrissa made her way slowly to the Council. The Council was extravagantly garish; a standing ovation to vanity of the nobles dwelling within. It was also huge, spanning over ten acres. It had been added slowly over the years as the number of aristocrats grew. However, it grew without direction, and the tower soon became a sprawling clutter of individual rooms joined together by arte.

Even from the hill across town, moats of natural magic floating in an equally magical breeze could be seen. It provided the building with both decoration and a fantastic ventilation system that was the envy of the rest of the founding fathers. It also, however, took a huge drain on the lacrimas that powered the city.

Along the way, Myrissa noticed the injured were not allowed in the tower where the better medical facilities were kept. Irritation flared within her then. They should have known better. These were men who had given their limbs and youth to a war that was not of their making. They deserved more. Stalking across an excessively decorated archway, she made her way to Grendel's quarters, to answer the summons in Thenesis's stead.

The hallways were filled with errant and superfluous magic. Lamps were left floating in the air where they could have been fixed in the walls. Doors opened automatically and trays of delicacies made their way around the lodgings of the nobles laden with expensive wine and imported food.

Myrissa's eyes narrowed at the waste. Gesturing towards a nearby servant, she instructed, "pass word to the kitchens to stop producing imported ingredients immediately. Also send out 50 bushels of bread out to the soldiers." Nodding insipidly, the servant hurried to obey his order.

It had been months since Myrissa stepped into the Council Tower. She hated the conceit and the elitism of the upper class, and therefore stayed clear of their way. Due to this, her family had slowly drifted apart. In this aspect she shared a kindred spirit with Thenesis.

Finally, at the end of the colossal construct, she spied Grendel's room teetering over an enormous expense of stairs. Her limited patience evaporated, and Myrissa simply teleported herself up.

The guards, so used to inaction, were stunned from their lethargy by the sudden overt appearance of the young woman. Grabbing their wands, they hastily aimed at the dissipating cloud of magic.

"Halt." The stringent voice of the captain rang out.

The air cleared, revealing Myrissa. Wands immediately fell.

"M-my lady…" The captain stammered, overwhelmed by the presence of the daughter of Grendel.

Continuing, he said in obvious disproval, "I'm sorry, but magic cannot be used here."

Raising her eyebrow, Myrissa directed the captain's eyes to a wayward floating lamp.

"Besides the natural occurring magic!"

"I see." Myrissa's voice was tinged with heavy irony. The guard captain reddened. Bolstering his courage, he said, "your father does not want to be disturbed, leave."

Myrissa replied lightly, "I will once the injured outside are allowed entry to the Council."

The captain looked horrified. "They will spoil the ambience of the tower, my lady. That cannot be allowed."

The young woman's eyes flashed. Deliberately teleporting herself in front of the physically larger captain, she forced him back with the strength of her stare.

"Captain." The word was forced through clenched teeth. "These men fought for us while you were here, guarding a door. They lost limbs and flesh in your stead. You. Will. Let. Them. In."

The captain staggered back while his attendants sniggered at his plight. Pulling himself upright, the man stared at the determined woman before wilting before her.

"I will pass the instructions along, my lady."

Satisfied, Myrissa made her way to the door, meaning to push it open. However, two wands barred her way. Ashen-faced at disobeying the daughter of their master but devoted to his instructions, they stood their ground.

Myrissa clicked in impatience.

"Move."

They stared resolutely ahead.

Sighing at the need for her to quell her rebellious spirit, she finally admitted, "Grendel asked for me." Reaching into her pockets, she showed them the summons.

Relief was evident in their faces for they no longer needed to choose between two warring loyalties. The door swung open, biding Myrissa welcome to her father's Chambers.

Grendel floated languidly amidst shelves of books that surrounded him. Her father's constant pursuit for knowledge irritated Myrissa. The allure of scholarship dimmed compared to the blood pumping activities that Myrissa engaged in. The young woman trained constantly, but for a reason that she could not fathom. There was no specific goal, nor a yearning to be the best. She trained simply because she did. Her simple philosophy was lost on her father, who preferred immersing himself in his scrolls, collecting wisdom for a nameless cause.

"Father." Myrissa greeted him formally.

Grendel looked up from the scroll he had been reading. Myrissa was struck again at just how powerful his eyes were. They radiated purpose and strength, filling his frail body with an indomitable will that seemed everlasting and eternal. She shivered as they now focused on her, intense in their scrutiny.

"Myrissa." The word was rasped out of a throat that was long unused. "Why have you come here?"

"Thenesis is resting, father. I have come instead." She raised her chin, bolstered by her defiance.

The quirk of a smile appeared on Grendel's face, and Myrissa had the uncomfortable feeling that they were staring right through her, laying bare the secrets of her soul.

Ignoring the discomfort that his daughter was in, the Grandmage of Ellinia said, "I hope you know how precarious our position is."

The ghost of a frown graced Grendel's ageless face. Subtle to the nuances of her father, Myrissa caught on to his worry.

"Both Thenesis and I are distanced from politics. What do you want us to do?"

Grendel let out of a sigh, disappointed at his daughter's foolishness. He said, "Thenesis is still a noble, whether he likes it or not. He will be made Ellinia's ambassador."

Myrissa gasped. The last ambassador had been during the Victorian Civil Wars. She had read the scholarly accounts she father forced on her and she knew that an ambassador would only be sent in the worst of crisis.

To hold the position of ambassador would mean to hold powers equivalent to a founding father. Authority was something that the Victorians guarded jealously, and therefore there had only been one other ambassador in their long history.

She knew that the death of Dances with Balrog would have shocked the remaining leaders, but she was still surprised that they were forcing the alienated cities together.

Myrissa stuttered a little, her shock and curiousity ultimately overpowering her usual sullen silence "B-but we have no quarrel with the Dark Lord or Athena."

Narrowing his eyes with impatience, Grendel lifted his levitating magic and floated to the ground. Aware that his blatant manoeuvre would not have been lost on his daughter, he replied her, "Myrissa, they are not preparing for war against us, we are now allies. They are in fact, already helping us. Do you know how many warriors Perion can field?" Without waiting for her answer, he pushed ahead, "Millions, all split into a thousand separate tribes."

Myrissa gasped as the ramifications of her father's words sank in. Only with the threat of imminent disaster could bind the different sovereign states together. To her credit, she managed to maintain her façade of calmness, determined that her weakness would not show through.

Satisfied that his wayward daughter had finally grasped the severity of their situation, Grendel nodded, "speak of this to no one and rouse Thenesis at the earliest opportunity. The Council will meet in an hour."

"You have not told the nobles about your plan to make Thenesis ambassador?"

"They will know soon enough."

Myrissa smirked, "good luck with that."

Grendel smiled humourlessly, "it won't be my life that will be in danger."

Myrissa hid a smile. The nobles could be callous when the situations called for it. However, they had never met anyone like Thenesis, nor would they ever. The Grandmage had turned back to his scrolls, an obvious dismissal.

However, Myrissa was not done. Clearing her throat repeatedly, she forced her father to acknowledge her presence, which he did reluctantly.

"What?"

"Father, Borius's Elquines still lives."

The implied question hung in the air. However, Grendel dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Magic is not constant. It fluctuates and ebbs. The ice demon will return soon."

"It has been two weeks since it was summoned." Myrissa pressed on. "And Demalto's Blizzard is still raging, protecting us from further invasion."

Grendel's eyes narrowed in irritation, "both spells will end soon."

His glare prevented Myrissa from pursuing her questions. Knowing how stubborn her father could be, Myrissa backed down. After seeing that no further information would be forthcoming, she rushed out of the Council room without bothering with the usual courtesies; she was dying to tell Thenesis the news.

Grendel sighed as he heard the door close resolutely behind his strong-willed daughter. He could only hope that the news of Perion's march would not spread too quickly – he did not want to deal with the mass riots and food shortages that would occur should the grapevine reach the panicky Ellinians. He hoped Athena and the Dark Lord were taking the necessary precautions as well.

As infallible as he needed to be in the public eye, Grendel was deeply troubled by the recent events. He had not expected Dances with Balrog to be so rash in his invasion. The closure of the trade routes was meant to be deliberate insult, a slight that was intended to irk his explosive fellow leader.

It had simply been a play of power set in a stage that Grendel had been gradually building for years – a stage that was now collapsing with the weight of consequences. The Grandmage knew that no one could know the cause of the war. It was a secret that he guarded jealously.

Grendel had been dismissive of the drought and feminine that had finally forced the leader of the warriors in his desperate act. But act he did, and the Grandmage had no choice but to plan revenge for the humiliating defeat at the Forest of Wisdom. If he could, he would simply teleport to the portals and close them.

But as it were, he was trapped in his room with magic of the most ancient kind. Leaving it would break the seals that held Zakum at bay for millennia, risking a rampage of destruction. Teaching the spells to another would risk the knowledge that he alone had. Even with seven thousand years of accumulated knowledge at his disposal, the leader of Ellinia still fell prey to vanity and lust for power. And added on to that, it seemed that the deaths of Borius and Demalto opened questions they he did not want answered.

A vein began to pulse gently in his forehead as the pressures crept up to him, unloading yet another bundle of his bowed shoulders. His self-control slipped, and a wisp of darkness sneaked out from the huge crystal behind him. Noticing it, he grimaced in frustration. With a thought, he shoved the darkness back into the crystal.

Irritated, he pushed his cluttered thoughts to the back of his mind, choosing instead to concentrate on the matter at hand.

The enemy had brought the war to his doorstep and he would answer the call. Anything less would lessen his position as ruler. Eyes blazed white with unfathomable power as rage coursed through him, filling him with a righteous anger.

A terrible pressure began to build in the room, the enormous power that the leader of Ellinia held announcing itself through little cracks that appeared in the stone walls. Finally, with a sigh, Grendel smothered the raging torrent of magic that swirled within, determined not to give in to his baser emotions.

Grendel touched the oak tree insignia he wore that allowed telepathic communication between all the Ellinian nobles. The Grandmage closed his eyes in concentration and his summons rang out through the lush forest, beckoning his Council to him. They had plenty to discuss, and Grendel could only hope that there would be enough time.

* * *

The Council members soon gathered. Kalas, a slender cleric, stood browsing the extensive bookshelves while waiting for his other tardier colleagues. He was soon joined by Bolars and Thurn, both powerful practitioners of fire. Eliun and Jolinta, the mistresses of ice arrived shortly after.

To the annoyance of the five Councillors, Thenesis, even with his self-imposed exile from his heritage, move among the Ellinian nobility with courtly grace, his manners and bearing perfect. Myrissa, however, stuck out like a sore thumb.

The nobles finally settled down to an awkward silence. Grendel, immersed in his reading, would only start the meeting after the end of his scroll. Knowing that, the nobles eyed each other with distrust, each toying with their own secret plans of espionage and sabotage.

They met sparingly, and calls for meetings could go ignored for years at a time. However, this was the first time that Grendel had called them together, and they had no choice but to answer his summons.

Finally, breaking the terse silence, Eliun addressed Thenesis, "how are your family estates, Thenesis? It's been a while since we last saw you."

Inclining his head in appreciation, Thenesis replied, "fine. My manservant has recently imported boars from Perion for breeding. They are doing remarkably well." He watched as Eliun nodded in response before continuing. "We should dine one of these days, maybe go for a few rides on the boars after our meal."

He managed to make the innuendo incredibly sexual, causing Eliun to flush.

Kalas snorted. "The first time we meet in a year and you're already planting your flag on our delicate virgin."

At "virgin", Bolars and Thurn began to snigger, the expression of humour growing to a chuckle. Kalas joined in, and the tension alleviated slightly.

Eliun shrugged, she could not take offense at the truth. She was a woman who liked men and she was not ashamed to show it.

Jolinta eyed her fellow ice mage disapprovingly. A staunched conservative, she was an outcast in the circle of her more liberal-minded nobles.

Somehow, her displeasure only heightened the mirth in the room. The nobles begin to put aside their differences and cheerful chatter lit up the room. They could enjoy an afternoon in each other's company before being sucked back in the intrigue that controlled their lives.

Sitting slightly behind Thenesis, Myrissa was stunned at how easily he maneuvered them, at how easily he fit into a society that he hated.

Finally, the banter ceased as Grendel descended in the middle, the power of his presence demanding instant attention.

Grave eyes raked across the members before settling on Thenesis. Myrissa had told Thenesis of her father's plan before they arrived, and the inevitability of it could be seen in the slump of Thenesis's posture.

"I have called you here today to make a statement," Grendel began. "Thenesis will be Ellinia's ambassador."

Even Myrissa winced at her father's choice of words and his general lack of subtlety. He could be aggravatingly straight to the point at times while extremely circular at others.

There was silence in the room as the nobles digested this particular news. It was Kalas that voiced his opinion first, stringent and shrill.

"Are you mad, Grendel? The hope of an alliance on a secretary?"

Picking up the call, Bolars and Jolinta were also vocal on their disagreement. Only Thurn and Eliun hunched down, slowly pondering their leader's choice.

Grendel waited for the outcry to die before saying, "Kalas, Bolars, Jolinta, Thurn, Eliun, all five of you are too well known in Victoria to make any sort of judgment on anything without heavy suspicion falling on you. Thenesis is relatively unknown. They will trust him and hopefully, underestimate him."

Thurn was huge, masses of muscle covering his body. His voice was deep, his presence enormous. When he spoke, people looked at him, whether they liked it or not. And he spoke now. "Grendel speaks the truth. An unknown ambassador will have a higher chance of gathering their support."

Kalas was livid as he turned towards Thurn. "Henesys will take it as an insult. You know how prickly the bowmen are."

"Are you saying that you would be the optimal choice then?"

"A better choice than Thenesis!"

"You would get lost the moment you stepped outside our borders,' Myrissa sneered.

The argument raged on, neither side giving ground. Through it all, Thenesis sat silently within the raging nobles, the eye of the storm, while he waited for their judgement.

Grendel, tiring of the posturing of his subordinates, slammed his staff, causing ripples of power to resonate throughout the room. The sudden silence was oppressive as the two competing sides stared down each other.

"Enough!" Grendel roared. "You think we have months to debate? To present our points? No! Our power is waning, our strength is broken, and there will be no further arguments. Remember well that while I allow a bureaucracy, I make the final choice. Thenesis will be ambassador."

Kalas spluttered, obviously at a loss. Jolinta, however, flared at Grendel's words.

"Why should the final choice by yours, Grendel? You are stuck in this room, impotent to the actions of the world outside!"

Even as the words of anger were uttered, Jolinta knew that she had made a fatal error. Grendel reddened in fury.

"What did you say?"

Jolinta knew that she had crossed a line. But still she pressed on, anxious to get her point across.

"You are skirting your own advisors in the favour of a noble who hates what we represent. Fool!"

Thenesis leaned back, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. He had seen the light of madness erupt behind Grendel's calm façade, and he silently urged Jolinta on.

"Do you actually think that Thenesis will obey your wishes once he is outside your borders? Do yo-…"

Faster than the eye could see an arrow of fire was shot from a magically conjured bow into Jolinta's belly. The noble bent over, pain staining her features. Desperately, she backtracked, pushing her chair out of her way.

Teleporting in front of her, Grendel grabbed her arm. She cried in agony as he twisted the arrow of flame buried in her. The sickly stench of burning flesh permeated the room. Unable to bear the stench, Kalas bent over and retched. A smile ravished Grendel's face as he slowly pushed the projectile through the noble's chest. Her heart roasting in her master's dreadful embrace, Jolinta died screaming.

The nobles gaped, shocked at the display of callous violence. Grendel's gaze swept across them all, the chains of duty that bound the madness of his soul temporarily shattered. Clutching his head, the Grandmage forced his insanity back by force of will.

"Get out, all of you, get out!" He shouted. Kalas, Eliun and Bolars scampered out, tumbling over one another in their haste to escape.

Myrissa, Thenesis and Thurn remained.

Myrissa ran towards her father, confused and dazed. Before she could control herself, her hand snaked out in a slap that shook Grendel.

"What is wrong with you?" She shouted.

Grendel's head bowed, and Myrissa was stunned to see listlessness in her father's eyes as they rolled about their sockets frighteningly.

Thurn was already moving, an economy of motion. Gesturing to Myrissa and Thenesis, he pointed to a small crack in the enormous crystal behind Grendel.

"Concentrate your magic here." He said urgently. Perplexed, but acceding to his strange request, both magicians lifted their weapons and laid it on the gem. Magic streamed out of them in waves and the crack filled in front of their eyes, surprising them.

Grendel jerked out and his arms swung freely, like a marmot released from a trap. The magician slumped down, his exhaustion plain.

"T-thank you." The words were whispered through pale lips.

Myrissa rushed to her father, concern written on her face. Ever protective of his friend, Thenesis hovered behind, prepared to lend her aid if necessary. However, as Grendel heaved himself up, Thenesis saw that there was no need; the madness he had seen previously had vanished.

"What in hell was that?" Thenesis asked.

Looking at Grendel, who nodded, Thurn shrugged. "Do you remember your histories? Zakum was sealed by the first Grendel in stone. However, the seal that Grendel casted prevented him from ever leaving his room." Both magicians nodded, that was common knowledge.

"Do you understand evil?" Thurn continued. "It is not simply the dualistic of good, but a madness that warps moral codes. To seal the Zakum, Grendel drew out his madness and sealed it in the crystal."

"So why did the seal fail after thousands of years?"

Thurn laughed, an altogether unpleasant sound. "Did you actually think that someone can live for thousands of years? They have been hundreds of Grendels, and there will be hundreds more."

Both Myrissa and Thenesis reeled from the information they had just been given.

"And how do you know this?" Thenesis demanded.

For a moment, sadness shone in Thurn's eyes, and Thenesis thought he would not answer. Then he said simply, "I am the next Grendel."

Meanwhile, Grendel had pulled himself up on a chair. He knew that even now the remaining nobles would be rushing towards their houses, filled with stories of murder and betrayal. Yet that was another issue to be settled at another time.

Grunting with the exertion, he focused himself and said, "the change of leadership could not have come in a worse time. The seal weakens every thousand years, and the drain on the body to keep the Zakum in check is enormous. You all saw what happened when it escaped - and that was only a fraction of the Zakum's true insanity."

Myrissa had paled.

"Change of leadership? You mean…?"

"Yes. I have lived for ninety-six years, it is time for Thurn to take over."

"And when did you plan to tell me?" Myrissa asked, raising her voice again.

Regarding his daughter with a certain tinge of sadness, Grendel replied, "there would not have been a need to. By become a Grendel, Thurn would have, in all aspects, become me. He would not have existed anymore."

Overwhelmed, Myrissa turned away to hide the tears stinging her eyes.

Turning towards Thenesis, Grendel said, "now it is critical that you reach the remaining Victorian towns."

Thenesis grimaced and said, "this has nothing to do with me."

Grendel reached out and grabbed Thenesis's arm with feverish strength. He spoke to the younger man telepathically. _As Dances with Balrog died, I managed to retrieve information from his dying mind. He wants the Zakum, Thenesis!_

_So?_

_Victoria will be in grave danger. The warriors are endless, and with an unsealed Zakum by their side, they will be invincible!_

_So?_

_They will come after the Fathers!_

_So? And why me?_

_You are expendable. And Thenesis, Myrissa will be in danger as well._

Thenesis groaned inwardly at the brutal honesty. But he could not let Myrissa come to any harm.

Aloud he said, "Athena and the Dark Lord must be made aware, do you understand?"

Numbly, Thenesis nodded, knowing even he spoke that the chains of duty to his friend bound him once again to a duty that he did not want.

"Yes."

Grendel visibly relaxed. "Thank you. I cannot burden Thurn with this responsibility just yet. I need to hold the madness at bay, just for a little while more. Pack your things, Thenesis, Thurn will follow you."

"I will too." The quiet voice of Myrissa cut in. "I won't stand by while my father shortens his life guarding our city."

Both Thenesis and Grendel opened their mouths, preparing to frame their separate arguments when Myrissa interrupted them.

"I. Will. Go."

Both fell silent simultaneously, knowing that nothing would dissuade the determined young mage at that point.

Thurn interjected. "The nobles, my lord?"

Closing his eyes, Grendel replied, "kill them before they reach their homes. No one must know."

Thenesis and Myrissa winced at the ruthlessness of the order. Yet both knew the deaths were necessary; a sacrifice for the greater good. The surviving nobles, would have been, without doubt, thorns in their sides that they did not have time to placate.

Thurn bowed, and teleported soundlessly away to carry out his burden.

Sighing wearily, Grendel said, "so it begins."

As if his words contained prophecy, a guard dashed in, paling as he saw the gore splattered over the Council room.

"My Lords!" Panting in terror, the guard did not bother to compose himself before stuttering, "you have to see him, my Lords."

At his signal, his men carried a bedraggled thief into their presence. If not for the silver identity on his forehead, the man would have been unrecognisable.

Slumping down, the mutilated man croaked, "the City of Thieves is gone. Kerning has fallen to the warriors. The Dark Lord is dead."


	3. Chapter 3

_Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto_

_-I am a man, I consider nothing that is human alien to me-_

* * *

News travelled fast, and soon the city was in uproar. The lesser merchants were still indecisive, desperately trying to get out of Ellinia yet having no place to go. The fat trading lords were already delving into their extensive contacts in the sky city of Orbis, frantically arranging asylum for their families. The town was bustling with uncommon activity as its people scurried about aimlessly, the very act of motion giving them a pseudo-control over their lives.

Grendel had ordered the main gates to be shut to prevent too many merchants from escaping. This also had to added benefit of halting the massive influx of refugees from Kerning. Even now, the remaining magicians in the city were sealing the use of magic in Ellinia. The Grandmage wanted to make sure that anyone that could use magic would stay and help with the defenses.

With the threat of war, a fledging but lucrative black market economy had erupted almost instantly in the free markets, causing the price of bare necessities to rise sharply. Red potions now went for a thousand mesoes, almost 500% their original price. Imported delicacies such as unagi and drake's blood were sold for a King's ransom. More often than not, these were left to rot as even the pampered nobles emptied their treasures for more commonplace meat and vegetable dishes, ignoring the dainty fare that they would have gladly grabbed in times of peace.

Thenesis teleported into his family's estates located at the edge of Ellinia. The halls were strangely empty as most of the servants had requested for leave to head back to their families and prepare against the rising panic.

"Puruk!" Thenesis shouted, his voice echoing again and again in the deserted halls. He was sure his manservant had stayed. Puruk was a bondsman of Thenesis, and she could not leave until her master was dead, freeing her from her bond.

When no reply was forthcoming, Thenesis called again, annoyed at the lack of response in his usually competent helper.

"Welcome home, Thenesis." A sibilant hiss emerged behind him, shocking him with its suddenness.

Annoyed that his control had visibly slipped, Thenesis turned, only to be faced with a grotesque woman.

He leapt back in surprise, his staff already waving in his customary stance before he realized it was Puruk that stood before him.

"Damn." Thenesis swore. "Will you please stop doing that?"

Puruk cackled, a thin shrieking sound that pained Thenesis's ears. The malady grinned, revealing rows of rotten teeth as she regarded her master. "Even after all these years, you're still afraid." Bending over with laughter, she shook in silent mirth.

Rolling his eyes, Thenesis threw his pack at her. Reaching out with supernatural grace, the creature caught it and swung it effortlessly over its shoulder.

The witch had given him valuable insights on issues that troubled him before, and the magician trusted her judgment.

"Puruk, what do you make of our little state of affairs?" Thenesis asked her.

The creature turned and replied easily. "Kalas will try to run. Bolars and Eliun are already dead."

"That's not what I meant."

"I just thought you would be interested to know, that's all."

Thenesis winced as he heard the Malady's reply. Bolars and Kalas aside, he had liked Eliun. For all her faults, she was a good person.

Puruk noticed the grimace and smirked, sometimes the magician was simply too easy to provoke.

"Thenesis. I kid. Eliun lives."

Thenesis's spirits lifted and he glared at his offending servant.

"You have a very nasty sense of humor."

"I'm a witch."

"I've heard of pleasant witches."

"Now that's going too far."

Thenesis grinned at the familiar banter. When his parents were still alive, he had not been bound by duty and as such, had plenty of time for travel. He had seen wide mountain ranges where time froze and dinosaurs roamed, snowy mountain tops that housed savage beasts and dark dungeons where plants were given sentient life. But nothing had matched his amazement more than the discovery of a secret society that was situated right next to his hometown.

To his astonishment, he had seen Maladies, who were previously thought to have no or at best, limited cognitive ability walk and talk like men. He was treated coolly at first, but as the months passed and his fascination still roared, he had been brought to the witch's enclave to meet with the Assembly and to share in their secrets. Dumbfound, he learned that as time passed, the Victorian creatures evolved a survival mechanism where the myriad consciousness had been merged into a single entity, a hive mind much like an ant's colony in order to prevent the adventurers from slaughtering them to extinction.

The bulk of that accumulated intelligence had gathered into creatures with the closest approximation to human form, the Maladies. As centuries passed, the assembly grew in strength and intelligence, their hidden sanctuary protecting them from curious eyes. Thenesis had been told that it took five hundred years for them to reach something even resembling human cognitive thought. From there, they grew steadily, forming societies and a behavioral code that was as alien to Thenesis as he was to them. The creatures that the adventurers of the Victorian Federation killed needlessly in a bid to increase their power were sent from the assembly in a bid to avoid raising any suspicions. These were generally mindless, bred to wander around before being killed.

Little civilizations soon formed, the Yakuza of Showa, Zipangu, the night markets of Formosa. However, the main hub was still situated in the damp forests of Ellinia. It took a while to persuade the assembly; however, Thenesis was able to purchase their closest equivalent to a human noble as his manservant. Thenesis learned about the numerous customs of the Enclave and Puruk in turn seemed delighted at having given the chance to uncover more aspects of human nature. It took Puruk the better part of five years in order to grasp human humor, and the increasing number of practical jokes made Thenesis groan.

It was, all in all, a satisfactory arrangement.

Turning towards the witch, he muttered, "please change."

Imitating her master's gesture, the little witch rolled her eyes. With a thought, features softened, revealing a delicate yet strong face. The shapeless mass that was her body slimmed and warped and the figure that was the envy of the Ellinian court emerged.

"Clothes, Puruk. Put some clothes on."

Cackling laughter so out of place from a beautiful mouth emerged and the witch swathed herself in a beautiful gown.

"Is this better?" She purred, licking her lips in mocking sensuality.

As always, Thenesis had to control himself from reacting to the blatant sexuality of Puruk. Picturing how she really looked in his mind, he quenched the surge of arousal.

"Much better, thank you."

Teleporting to his private quarters, he slumped down on an armchair, savoring the softness of silk that covered it. Puruk soon entered, riding on her customary broomstick. Thenesis frowned.

"People might see."

She simply laughed. Twisting in the air, she flew around the magician, forming elaborate manevours around him.

Shaking his head at her antics, Thenesis continued, "have your spies found anything useful?"

"What?"

"About Perion."

Puruk alighted from her broom then, any semblance of cheer gone. "The Shamans are building something."

Thenesis stared at her quizzically. "Something?"

Puruk's said, "something. My spies can't get any closer."

Thenesis sighed, "send something smaller then. A slime?"

Puruk stamped her feet impatiently. She stared at Thenesis and deadpanned, "a slime. In Perion. Nope, they won't get suspicious."

"A small slime?"

Puruk glared at him.

Thenesis threw his hands up in surrender. "Whatever it is, try to get it done. You Maladies have doppelganger powers don't you?"

"We can shift our appearance. We can't imitate powers."

"Use your hive mind."

"How do you think I found out that they were building something in the first place?"

"Something. Yes, that's helpful, thank you."

Puruk shrugged. "At least you know something's up."

"The invasion sort of gave us a clue."

"Stop it, Thenesis!"

Thenesis cheerfully smiled at his servant.

Puruk swore then, something frighteningly human.

Thenesis raised his eyes at the language.

"Well, you seem to have grasped swearing quite well."

An impish grin fluttered across the witch's face.

"That was the correct expression right, the grin?" She asked worriedly.

"Yes, it was. By the way, why have you allowed every servant to return home?"

"Well, they asked."

"You did not need to comply, you know."

"Their homes have been destroyed, Thenesis, their families in danger. It would be cruel to make them stay."

Thenesis pondered over that startling realization that the witch had learned empathy, and humans. And through the hive consciousness that he knew they shared, he wondered what her colleagues made of the new discovery.

Aloud, he said, "Yes, I guess so. Have you been keeping the place clean all this time then?"

Puruk stared. "Thenesis, I'm a noble."

As if to emphasize her point, a lupin carrying a broom walked into the room, sweeping as it went. Only then did Thenesis realize that all around him, creatures were busily bustling around his house, cleaning even the little niches that humans would have missed out.

"Impressive."

Puruk danced girlishly around him as her slaves busied around the household, tending to her every need.

"How exactly do you command them?" Thenesis asked. Her explanations on the hive mind that governed them had been irritatingly vague.

"We have a….ladder…" Puruk struggled a little with the notion before continuing, "a hierarchy. At the top stands our Mother. Being one of their nobles, I stand just slightly below her. It's basically governed by the level of consciousness we've attained."

"So…how enlightened you are?"

Annoyed at his interruption, Puruk tweaked Thenesis's nose slightly. Immediately, his irises widened as battle instincts took over. It required all of his control simply to stay still. Puruk felt this, and giggled.

"These lesser creatures you see around us," she went on, ignoring the slight lapse in his control, "are newly…." Again the concept escaped her and she had to pause before saying, "made would be the closest approximation. They are newly made. It might take a few years for them to reach any form of cognitive ability. After that they are sent back to the enclave to study and learn."

"But if your population continuously increases….?"

Puruk laughed, a tinkling sound, a direct contrast to her previous cackle. "We die too, Thenesis. In fact, we have a shorter natural lifespan compared to humans."

Thenesis grunted as he processed the knowledge being imparted to him. The society was so outlandish that he could barely understand it. Suddenly, a thought struck him.

"Puruk, how old are you exactly?" He asked.

"Fifteen!"

Taken aback, Thenesis stared.

"In human years, I'm twenty-five."

"Ah."

Puruk turned her back to him then, and Thenesis knew that the conversation was over.

Picking up a drink that a lupin was serving him, he closed his eyes, exhausted from the affairs he had to handle. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, the doorbell rang, shocking him from his slumber.

"I'll get it!" Puruk called. She had been dozing in the form of a slime on Thenesis. Swiftly changing back to her human guise, she ran towards the door.

"Myrissa!" Came the merry greeting from the hall.

Pushing himself up as the last dredges of drowsiness disappeared, Thenesis teleported himself into the hallway.

He saw the two women embracing.

"Myrissa, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"I've packed!" Came the excited reply.

Thenesis groaned, he had forgotten all about his trip.

"How's your father?"

Myrissa's face fell slightly then, and Thenesis felt Puruk savagely elbow him.

"He's okay. Thurn has been feeding him potions and strengthening elixirs. We should be able to reach the Zakum on time."

Something clicked in Thenesis then.

"Puruk." He asked. "You said they were building something, right?"

"Yes…." Her curiousity was obviously awakened, and the witch looked at Thenesis with interest.

"The prison of Zakum is in El Nath! Puruk, they're building a ship! They need one to get to Orbis!"

Realization dawned, and Puruk snapped her fingers delightedly. "Of course!"

Confused, Myrissa stared at her two friends.

"What exactly is going on here?" She asked.

Thenesis said drily, "we just figured out something."

Puruk glared at him.

"Come on Myrissa, we'll talk inside."

Ushering the confused magician inside, Puruk led her to the dining rooms.

Thenesis felt his stomach rumble and silently thanked the capable witch for her initiative.

Myrissa gestured at the passing creatures and said, "I see you have a new workforce now."

"Yes, apparently Puruk's a noble."

Shushing him, the witch led Myrissa to the table and snapped her fingers. Immediately, a trove of lupins carrying a roasted wild boar emerged from the kitchens. Thenesis stared, baffled, he did not smell or hear the wild boar being cooked.

"Puruk, will you be joining us?" Myrissa asked.

"Of course, why not?"

"Won't it be well, cannibalism?"

Puruk turned to Thenesis, a confused expression on her face.

"Thenesis, what is that?"

"It means, well, eating your own kind."

Puruk laughed and replied Myrissa, "no silly, we're as different as them as you are different from the Perionions."

Myrissa raised her hand to offer a rebuttal only to be shushed down by Thenesis. There were some concepts that were solely human after all, and cannibalism was one of them. Puruk did not need anyone to tell her that eating her own kind was a debacle. It was be absolutely inconceivable to her.

The wild boar tasted delicious, its meat fragrant and fresh. Thenesis and Myrissa tucked in, grabbing haunches of meat. Puruk went solely for the innards, swallowing organs with gusto.

When they finished, they saw back, enjoying each other's company while they sipped wine Thenesis was sure was made from something other than grapes.

Finally, the tables were cleared and the banter ceased. By unspoken assent, they resumed talk about the upcoming war.

Puruk opened by saying, "my spies can infiltrate Perion easily. However, they can't get close to the construct the warriors are building."

Thenesis said, "they don't have to. Stay close to their new leader."

Puruk raised her eyes at that.

"Thenesis, you don't know who their new leader is?"

The magician shrugged, "no."

"It's Runglar."

"Runglar who?" Myrissa interjected.

Thenesis was stunned for a moment before he recovered himself. He guessed he should have expected it after he saw the casual authority that Runglar wielded in their fight. Still, the news jolted him.

Answering Myrissa, he replied, "he was a warrior I fought at the Forest of Wisdom. He did mention something about being a noble."

Turning to Puruk, he asked, "are you absolutely sure?"

The witch looked offended. "Of course I'm sure! He's the son of Dances with Balrog. That's the way succession works right?"

"Then we have a bigger problem."

"Why?"

"If it was anybody else, the new leader would have led them back home. The warriors are not aggressive unless provoked, and they would have responded to our peace treaties by now. However, if Runglar is the son Dances with Balrog, he's bound by honor to continue his father's conquest. That's probably why they're building the ship."

Myrissa paled. Until that moment, she had been hoping that a full-out war could be avoided. However, she knew the Hymn of the Steeps that the Perionions followed, and if Puruk and Thenesis were right, Runglar would have no choice but to continue the war.

"So we have no choice then?" She asked.

There was a gravity in her voice that Thenesis had not heard before.

"None." He replied.

Puruk was strangely silent as she considered Thenesis's words.

"The enclave will try to close the portals." She finally said.

It was only then that Thenesis realized that Puruk had been communicating through the hive mind. He wondered briefly if he would ever get the opportunity to experience some intimate communication.

"It's going to be dangerous, Puruk." He said. "Why would the enclave be interested in our war anyway?"

Silently, Puruk contemplated the question.

Finally, she said, "Thenesis, remember when you made the deal?"

Thenesis nodded, unsure where this was going.

"It included more than me. It included the entire enclave and as such, all the creatures of Victoria."

Thenesis gawked.

"What?"

"When you make a deal with one of us, Thenesis, you make a deal with all of us. We're bound to you."

Thenesis sat back, overwhelmed. It was yet another burden of responsibility thrown on his shoulders. He could almost feel the binding chains of friendship that bound him to the war creep up over him again, adding another lock to the jail he was slowly building himself into.

Aloud, he said, "fine. In that case, tell the enclave not to act yet. It's too soon for us to use our trump card."

Puruk's eyes sparkled and she giggled girlishly, "we're your trump card?"

"Of course you are."

"Oh yay!"

Thenesis grinned boyishly. "Anyway Puruk, we're setting off tomorrow, would you like to come to us?"

"Of course! I'll protect you."

"I think we're going to need all the protection we can get. The bowmen are notoriously bad-tempered."

"We're going to Henesys?"

"We have to, it's the nearest town to us."

"But isn't the Forest of Wisdom standing in the way?"

"Grendel will have to teleport us nearer to the town. However, we won't be able to use any magic from there on."

"How silly."

Thenesis sighed, "they're afraid of us, Puruk. And even more so after Borius's Elquines."

Puruk's eyes deepened with what seemed like sadness.

"I liked him, Thenesis. He was always nice to me. I'm glad he finally understood what you were teaching him."

"I know, me too."

The night passed swiftly as the two friends sat, reminiscing about their shared past and friends. Hard times were about to fall, and they would remember this night fondly. Myrissa slept on in her chair, comforted at the knowledge that she was surrounded by friends.


End file.
